EMMA

When I woke up, the first thing I saw was hair in my face. Smelled of the sea. I slid down to see if he was awake. He wasn't.

I still couldn't believe it: Killian Jones... Was right next to me.

And just the thought of it always being like this, just like that, my day was already made.

I watched him sleep beside me; studying his face as he did.

I watched his hair move with the light wind; that little trinket pierced on his ear I hardly ever notice, seems like a part of him now; I wondered where he got that scar on his face; and those eyes – closed, but still readable: the passion, the sadness, and the hatred burning inside them. Those eyelids gave them rest; kept them closed; at peace; tired as they always are, and probably always will be. I hope not.

I just stared at him; slowly breathing; matching my own breaths to his; wondering if this was just a dream.

I looked at the clock and back at him. 7 am's too early – I'll let him sleep for a while. In the meantime, let's make breakfast!

MARY MARGARET

I was dressing Neal when I heard Emma come down. "Good morning," she said with a big smile on her face.

I looked up at her, "Emma? You're up early."

She went to the kitchen and took out pans and some eggs, "You're not."

"Why should I be...?"

"I don't know. Are you on a leave from work?"

"Yes... No... Umm... I... Don't know, I think I forgot... Am I?"

She took a glass of orange juice, "Don't ask me – not my job." She drank and started humming. Humming?

David came from the bathroom, "Well, someone's happy."

Emma grinned, "What? Is it so wrong to be happy now?"

"No," David said, "It's just – we're not used to that."

"To me being happy?"

"No, no – I meant to you smiling. You don't smile a lot."

Emma bowed her head, "We'll, I'm sorry to have broken the routine." She turned to the eggs.

"Alright... What are you making?"

"Bacon!" Emma teased.

"Smells like barbecue," David laughed.

I got up and sat by the bar. "This is nice, isn't it?"

They looked at Neal in my arms and smiled at me, then at each other.

EMMA

I went back upstairs.

I knelt on the bed over him and whispered in his ear, "Killian. Wake up!"

He mumbled something inaudible.

"Killian, wake up! It's your first day at work. Wouldn't wanna be late, would you?"

"Five more minutes..." he said.

"No," I smiled, "7:15. You'll be late!"

I kissed him on the cheek and he shot up, wide awake. "I'm a – I'm up!"

I stood by the foot of the bed and looked at him. Just imagine: bed hair; puzzled face; bare-shouldered; fingers rubbing on sleepy eyes. He looked like a lost puppy. Adorable.